"Fuck, Zacky, faster!"

Zacky rolled his eyes, his hand fisting into the blonde's hair and pushing her face deeper into the pillow as he pounded mercilessly into her core. He was losing himself in her tightness, his groans coming out as a jumbled mess of shit's and oh fuck's. Had he even bothered to remember her name, he'd be moaning that too. She felt good. There was no denying that. But Zack knew that after this, she'd have to go.

"Zacky, you in there?" said a voice from the other side of the door. Brian. The girl whimpered and turned her head to look up to Zack, who's hips hadn't ceased their movements.

"I'm kinda.." Zacky growled, slamming his hips forward to silence the blonde's protests, "..busy."

"Matt's calling a meeting, dude."

With a low groan, Zack rolled his eyes back into his head, his grip on the girl's waist tightening as his temper grew more and more out of control. "Matt can fuck off. I said I'm busy."

Just like that, the door flew open, and Matt came stomping in. "I figured you'd say that."

Matt's hand gripped Zacky's arm tightly and all but dragged the smaller man off of the bed and out of the room. Zacky punched and kicked the entire way, somehow managing to grab a blanket to cover himself with. Once they had reached the front of the bus, Matt shoved Zacky down onto the couch, giving him a stern look.

"When I call for a fucking meeting, you fucking come to the meeting," Matt stated. "I don't care if you've got your dick buried in Angelina fucking Jolie's ass, you drop everything."

Zacky simply kept his mouth shut, staring blankly ahead with his arms folded over his bare chest. He was seated next to Johnny, who glanced over at Zacky warily every few seconds, as if he was afraid the guitarist would explode. Jimmy was on the other side of the room, chomping on a cheeseburger at the dining table.

"Now," Matt started, "as you all know, we've been getting pretty low on funds lately. The crowds for these past few gigs have been a huge disappointment."

"We've made it this far," Johnny said, glancing around the bus as he spoke. "We went from a shitty van to a tour bus. I think we're doing just fine."

"That's exactly it, though, Johnny," Brian argued. "We've been in a piece of shit van before. If things keep going this way, we'll end up back there."

"So, we need to do something about it," Matt declared, his arms crossing over his chest. "And not another robbery. We got too close to being caught last time. So, I'm calling this meeting to ask for ideas. From everyone."

"We could just play more shows," Jimmy offered, his mouth still stuffed with food.

"Jim, that's not gonna help when no one wants to see us in the first place," Matt chuckled, giving a small shake of his head. He then turned his attention to Zacky. "What about you, Mister I-Can't-Keep-My-Dick-In-My-Pants-For-More-Than-Two-Seconds?"

"I say we kidnap someone. Hold 'em for ransom," Zacky replied, his gaze still not moving. He clenched his jaw, refraining from making any further comments.

Brian and Matt looked at each other for a moment and Brian shrugged a shoulder, mumbling to him, "Not a bad idea."

Matt turned back to the other men. "Anyone else got something better?"

Jimmy and Johnny both shook their heads and Matt nodded slowly.

"Alright," the vocalist said. "Kidnapping it is. We draw out a plan tonight at ten. Don't be late."

Zacky let out a long sigh as the group broke apart. He knew those last few words were meant for him. He pushed himself back up to his feet and held the blanket securely around his waist as he made his way back into the bedroom. The blonde was lying on the bed, shaking slightly.

"Is everything okay?" she whimpered, her face covered in fear.

Zacky gave her a calming smile, reaching down to pick up his boxers and pulling them up his legs. He gathered his jeans in his hands and crawled up onto the bed, pulling the woman's tiny frame onto his lap. His arm circled around her waist, holding her close against him. She smiled, feeling his lips make a small trail of kisses up her neck.

As his free hand slid into the pocket of his jeans, he grinned, placing one last kiss below her ear, whispering, "Everything's gonna be just fine."

He drew the switchblade from his pocket, flicking the knife out and raising it to her throat, cutting a slit into her neck. His smile faded as he dropped her lifeless form onto the mattress, her blood pouring from the wound.

Zacky stood from the bed, walking out of the room.

"We're gonna need new sheets," he mumbled, tossing the blood-covered blade onto the kitchen table next to Jimmy before leaving the bus.